Mastered 2: Ten Tales of Sensual Surrender (24 page)

“I think I can arrange that,” Landon whispered, so close the heat of his big body caressed her breasts and belly. Planted a sweet kiss on her cheek and then moved away. She immediately missed his closeness but a moment later, the click of a shutter told her that she would indeed get to “see”.

He reached out and brushed the back of his hand over her puckered nipples, then down the valley between her breasts. Fingers wrapped around the rope just above her pelvis and tugged. Mac shot up onto tip-toes.

An unexpected zing from her mons made her tremble. What in the...? Oh!

Landon let go of that bit of rope. Then gently yanked again.

Release.

Yank.

Up. Down. Up.

Dear god.

Sly man—he’d placed a fat square knot right over her clit!

The rasp of silky-smooth rope over her flesh combined with the firm tugs on her nipples caused blistering heat to spread outward in a slow, uneven burn until she squirmed against the well-placed knot.

“Oh god, please,” she gasped at the sweet abrasion.

“Why, whatever do you mean, MacKenzie Ivers?” he teased. “There’s not supposed to be any sex between staff and patrons.”

“Even if they’re husband and wife?” He tugged again, and her eyes crossed.

“Well, maybe.”

Thankful to be in a private space, Mac almost sighed with relief when her husband began to untwine her limbs.

She was damn near panting by the time the final stretch of rope hit the floor, and he carefully passed swift hands over her body. The move may have been to ensure she had full circulation, but he didn’t miss a chance to touch her intimately, in every way she desired, as he went along.

By the time he was done, his breathing was short, and his gaze bright, and full of desire. He looked at her as if she were the only prize in the world, worth more than the gold found in the most opulent tombs of Egypt.

And just now, her king leaned her over the throne. The pop of the buttons on his jeans echoed in her ears and then he was filling her.

The heat of his cock pressed against soaked flesh, and in two strokes, he was buried deep inside.

No easy loving, or gentle touches. This was rough, hard...raunchy. And god, she loved it. Needed it. Craved it.

She wanted to be fucked. Hard.

As usual, her man sensed exactly what she needed and delivered. He slid out, gave her a moment to adjust, and then took her the way she needed. Strokes were sure, steady and deep. Nerve endings sizzled as his thick cock parted her sugared walls.

When he reached around to flick her engorged clit, wet and dewy from her arousal, she flew apart.

Unlike Humpty-Dumpty, she never wanted to be put back together, after spending time in this man’s arms.

* * *

Jay Frenz had landed at the airport this morning and gone directly to MacKenzie’s building just outside of the Seattle city proper. He replayed their meeting in his mind as he drove straight to the swanky boutique hotel he’d reserved for the next few days. It was a beautiful property that offered all the amenities a traveling businessman could want, but he didn’t give a rat’s ass right now.

Instead of removing his jacket, kicking off his shoes and considering room service, his briefcase went sailing as he grit his teeth. The thing bounced off the wall and landed on the floor with a thud. Jay barely resisted the urged to toss a chair after it.

Wrestling with his self-control, he stood in front of the mirrored dresser. What the hell was wrong with him? He was the most easy-going guy he knew, yet here he was practically seething. And for what?

In truth, he had no idea.

The one woman who’d always respected him had spent some time with him today. Jay was glad that MacKenzie was happy. Was even glad that she and Landon had worked out their differences. In fact, when Mac had released him from his collar and contract, they’d parted on good terms.

So why was he so fucking angry all of the sudden?

Jay shed his suit and jumped into a pair of sweats.  A few minutes of stretching and he headed out for a much-needed run. The cool, crisp air of a Seattle Spring invigorated much more quickly than the tar flavored crap that passed for coffee in this town. As he turned up a steep hill behind Pike Place Market, he examined his conscience, looked for the truth about himself deep inside.

And found it.

The hole that had been left in his heart after breaking up with Mac remained unfilled. It was his own fault, so he couldn’t be pissed at anyone else.

Mac and Landon had been in the middle of a nasty divorce, and it was no surprise that MacKenzie let Jay go so she could focus on her circumstances. Yet, after leaving Seattle, Jay had never sought another D/s relationship. Actually, he’d not sought out
any
relationship, but had buried himself in work instead.

Now here he was, two years later, yearning for the one woman who’d always touched him on every level, even though their D/s play never included sex. Nothing was sexier to Jay than intellect, and Mac had that in spades. Mind, body and spirit, MacKenzie Ivers had it all. Was she perfect? There wasn’t a single person on the planet that could claim that title, but she was pretty damn close.

And god, could that woman wield a riding crop like nobody’s business.

Jay began to sweat from a combination of physical exertion and the sweet ache that settled into his balls anytime he reminisced about his time with Mac.

On his way back to the hotel room, rain had begun to fall, chilling him to the bone. Yet, even in the mist and gloom, his heart lightened as he realized the difference between what he needed and what he wanted.

Now all he had to do was figure out how to get it.

Chapter Three

What was he doing up here? And just like the other seven times he’d asked himself that question since he’d hopped into the elevator, Landon still had no clue.

Madison Lee had been straight forward with him—typical for her no matter the situation. She’d told him that it was time he stop letting the past keep him from doing what he loved—tie up beautiful women in even more beautiful rope. He knew she was right. Also knew that Mac and Madison Lee had conspired to get his ass into the elevator and up to the Ice Palace on the third floor.

He could admit that rigging was under his skin. Had been for years and years, ever since he’d learned that there was such an outlet for his creative and kinky side. But a cunning sub in rope is what got him into a serious fix a couple of years ago.

Landon and Mac were both dominant personalities. Through mutual agreement, they’d both had submissives back then. Mac had a guy named Jay who’d enjoyed serving as her sub. If Landon recalled correctly, the man had especially enjoyed the exquisite sting of her expertly plied floggers, canes and paddles.

Landon’s former submissive, Yazmin, had been in love with rope and serving him in whatever capacity he’d desired...or so he’d thought.

Their agreement had been simple—no sex with others. After all, BDSM wasn’t always about fucking. Sometimes it was about the simple act of gaining their partners submission and giving that sub what they needed, whether that was impact play, psychological play, or Landon’s area of expertise—bondage and rope suspension.

But Landon had broken the rules. He’d had his head so far up his own ass, had been so full of himself that his ego had caused him to break trust with Mac.

“Why doesn’t she get home in time to give you what you need,”
he remembered Yazmin asking him.
“You’re a busy man just like she’s a busy woman. Why do her desires always come first? What about you?”

He’d been such an idiot.

“If you were mine, I’d take such good care of you. You could tie me up every night and fuck me silly if you wanted to. I’d never be too tired.”

Yeah. So much for the grass being greener in the neighboring pasture. In the end, he’d been pulled into a web of deceit. All the promises from Yazmin-the-submissive had come complete with an extra boxful of crazy topped with a tattered bow.

Before he knew it, Landon had found himself caught up in a full-blown affair, completely unaware that his little Yazmin had been taunting his wife about it every time their path’s crossed.

And Mac, with her endless class, had handled it like a champ. Down to a painful divorce.

There was one thing he wouldn’t do no matter what—get so wrapped up in his own desires that he couldn’t see past his dick.

Never again.
Ever.

Getting his ego and his cock stroked had cost him his marriage, and by his choice, his rigging. He hadn’t done any rope work, fancy or otherwise, on anyone other than his wife even though she’d encouraged him on multiple occasions to let the past go and get to tying people up already.

MacKenzie Ivers deserved everything he had to give, and nothing less. And if that meant that his wife would be the only recipient of his rope outlet, then so be it. Had his wife asked him to give up his love of rope? Nope. Not once. But she was his focus, and would remain so.

He might love rope, but he needed Mac more than he needed his next breath. Hell, Landon could turn his back on the entire world, as long as he had Mac in his corner.

But was he ready for this? Honestly, Landon wasn’t sure, but the freefall of his gut—which had nothing to do with the speed of the lift—as he headed toward his destination made him wish he’d stayed downstairs in the restaurant’s kitchen.

After all, he had a cake to bake for their friend, Solie. Yes, that was it. He had baking to do. Fuck this rope demo.

And as soon as he’d made up his mind to bow out, the sleek mirrored doors of the lift slid open with a quiet swish.

Too late now
, he thought to himself as all eyes turned his way. Standing right in front of him was what must have been the entire movie team. A short, wiry man stepped forward with a welcoming smile and extended hand.

“Hi, I’m Harrison Smith, the director.” His grip was firm, but not overly hard as he pumped Landon’s hand up and down. The director thanked Landon for his time, and then turned and started rattling off names of screenplay writers, co-producers, artists and graphic designers. There was no way he would remember all their names, but each one sported a ready smile and seemed a friendly bunch that probably wouldn’t care much.

In spite of his misgivings about the whole thing, he found himself getting excited about the prospect of twining supple material around limbs and manipulating the pose of whoever would be his rope bunny. He knew that what he created with rope was artistic. It fed something inside of him. Made him feel accomplished, talented. And in charge.

A low hum of vibration began to replace the apprehension that had been swirling around in his gut. And that hum was quickly becoming what he recognized as his planning energy. He’d automatically begun to visualize which ties, knots, patterns and positions, and the order in which he would need to tie them to create the design he’d just chosen in his head—a suspended phoenix bird.

Landon turned as Harrison pointed to the other side of the room to the woman who would be his rope bunny.

The entire room came to a standstill at Landon’s, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” followed by his sudden burst of laugher.

* * *

Headed his way with her phone plastered to her ear, was Yazmin Ross. Fake smile firmly in place, a damn-near maniacal glint in her eye told Landon that she hadn’t changed a bit.

In that moment, scenes replayed in his head that he’d spent a lot of therapy time trying to move past. Not forget—he would never forget—but simply move to a space in his heart where they hurt less and less each day.

Images of him berating his woman rather than appreciating her. Of him not caring that MacKenzie Ivers worked sixty to seventy hours a week at her own business. He’d only cared that she wasn’t always home when he wanted her there, wasn’t always energetic enough after busting her ass at her firm to do all the little things that the mega-bitch in front of him had convinced him that he needed from his wife.

Yazmin had played him from the beginning of the fantasy she’d helped weave in his head, through to the end.

And the end had been nasty.

He’d lost the love of his life and discovered that the woman he’d thought he wanted was a mere facade, barely a sprinkle of what she’d claimed to be.

Beneath the sheep’s clothing had been the queen of the wolves. And as she stood before him now, he could swear he saw fangs elongate in her lying mouth.

“Landon, please meet Yazmin Ross, the star of our movie. She volunteered to actually experience being tied up so that she could react appropriately in the role.”

Yazmin reached out a hand and said, “Nice to meet you.”

Da ferk? So she was choosing to pretend as if they didn’t know each other, as if she’d never been bound by him? As if they had no history together?

Well whatever game she played, Landon wasn’t signing up to be on the team.

He glanced down at Yazmin’s outstretched hand, and then turned his attention to the director. “Will you please excuse me for a moment, Harrison?”

“Sure, no problem. We’ll just set up over there and make sure you have plenty of room to work,” he said, motioning over toward the area near the suspension rig.

With a polite nod, Landon left the room, headed back toward the elevator and rounded the corner just past the reception desk. He pulled out his phone and ducked into a little nook he knew was there for just such a purpose.

He hit the speed dial and the second his wife answered her private line, he quietly lost it.

“You’re not going to fucking believe this shit!”

“Hold on a sec,” she said. In the background he heard, “Hey, Jolene, will you please pick up line two and let Solie know that I’ll call her right back? Thanks, hon.” And then her voice filled the line and her concern bled through, letting him know he had her full attention. She asked, “What happened, sweetie? What’s going on?”

“Yazmin is the goddamn rope bunny!” he fumed as quietly as he could, knowing that a room full of people was just around the corner.

“Yasmin? As in...”

“Yes, damn it. As in.”

“Well, I didn’t see that coming. But so what,” Mac said.

“So what? So what?! What do you mean, so what? The last thing I want is to have anything to do with that bitch.”

“Do you think Madison Lee knows she’s the person you’re to do the demo on?” Mac asked.

“I doubt it. She hasn’t made it into the room yet. She’s giving Kuri some instructions about some thing or another.”

“Well, regardless, Landon, it’s just rope. It’s not a binding contract. Not a binding
anything
. I think you should do it. You’re in a room full of people demonstrating the skills of a top rigger. What can she do in a room full of people?”

He listened, and as usual, his wife made sense. She was such a remarkable woman, his Mac. Most females would be fuming about having the author of the destruction of their relationship standing within a thousand paces. But not Mac. Instead, she encouraged him to look past his disdain for bitchzilla across the room, and consider where this could take him.

“I love you, MacKenzie Ivers,” Landon said with a smile.

“You bet your gorgeous Irish ass you do. Dinner at six-thirty?

“You’ve got it. See you later.”

He disconnected the call and considered his wife’s advice...for all of five seconds.

Mind made up, a tightness in his chest eased that he hadn’t noticed until the vice grip encircling his ribs began to let up.

Just as he made it back to the reception area on this floor, the person he needed most was mere steps away.

“Maddy, hold on a second,” he called as he jogged over to the door that Madison Lee was just about to walk through. “Can I talk to you a second?”

A few moments later, with a genuine smile on his face and a spring in his step, he relished the gasps of surprise coming from the open doors behind him. Next came Yazmin’s less-than-ladylike screech of denial as Madison Lee informed the movie crew that she would personally do the demonstration as Landon suddenly had something come up.

Landon hopped in the elevator, swiped his authorization card and grinned as the lift dropped down to the underground parking lot.

The rumble of the engine of his muscle car made that grin spread wider as he thought about where he was headed.

An hour later, his wife was laid back on her desk with her thighs on either side of his head as she stuffed her fist into her mouth to muffle a scream as she came. Twice.

* * *

MacKenzie had spent almost half an hour on the phone calming a pissed off Madison Lee.

“Woman, I don’t know how you stay so calm,” Madison had said. “I’d be spitting nails knowing that after ten years of marriage, the worm who’d squeezed herself into my relationship was back in town.”

But Mac hadn’t always been so calm and collected. She’d gone through a period of time where she’d been in so much pain, she was sure her heart was going to fall out of her body through the hole in her chest. The Yazmin creature had been one source of that pain. But not the only source.

And though she’d forgiven him long ago, she could admit that Landon had done the most damage. Madison Lee had been right—after ten years of marriage, she’d found herself in quite an unpleasant pickle.  Though no lies had been told between MacKenzie and her husband, trust had been broken. Broken into shards so numerous and sharp, she’d felt each and every one of them as though they’d cut through her very skin.

Standing in the strength that she’d learned from her own mother—the inner knowing and acknowledgement of her worth—she’d healed and learned how to live without dysfunction. Without regret. And, for a time, without Landon.

It hadn’t been all sunshine and roses. Not by a long shot.

But since reconciling, Landon had gone well beyond proving how much he regretted his dumb ass decision, yet he was still inwardly paying for it. He refused to exercise his rope skills on anyone but Mac, and she knew it wasn’t enough for him. Knew to the bottom of her soul that he needed to use his talent way more than he was at the moment. There had to be a way to get him out of his self-imposed punishment. She just had to figure out how.

Madison Lee had been quite clear why she’d been first, amazed, and then furious. Yazmin had been banned from Twilight Teahouse two years ago, yet today she’d waltzed her happy ass through those doors as part of the film entourage.

According to Madison Lee, she’d done a simple binding and suspension demo in Landon’s place in as professional a manner as possible. She’d explained each knot and harness, as well as why one should always bind the arms last. Questions from the attendees were answered while Maddy made sure not to have Yazmin restricted or suspended too long.

Afterward, she’d taken the director, Harrison something-or-other, aside. Without elaborating on the circumstances, Madison had informed him in no uncertain terms, that Yazmin was not allowed to enter the facility again. Ever.